Never go Back
by LadyNightRunner
Summary: They say that when you leave home, you can never really go back. Tseng is going back. And he's going with the weight of an assignment on his shoulders and a rash of kidnappings on his conscience. Rated for blood and violence.


Written as the first of four requests from the lovely **KajaKataMaran. **You wanted a dark, twisted, angsty Turk-fic, and here I have it. Dark? Check. Twisted? Yuppers. Angsty? A double helping. Turks? Yeah, I've got that covered too. Eat your hearts out, dear readers. I have finally wirrten a piece with absolutely no humor in it! It's a bloody miracle! As always, read and review, and then go vote in the poll. It remains open until I get at least 100 votes.

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The folder arrived mid-morning, paper-clipped shut and stamped with a big red CLASSIFIED. Tseng accepted it from the courier and retreated to his office to read it.

**Location: **Wutai

**Assignment: **Retirement and halt of activity

**Grounds: **Former company scientist Jeremiah Archer conducting illegal experiments on kidnapped subjects.

**Details:** Any human or former human within the compound is to be considered a threat to society and assignee. Terminate all. Facility to be demolished after mission completion.

Tseng sat at his desk, staring at the order, for some time. Wutai. He hadn't set foot in his own country since he'd left to become a Turk. Since he'd been unofficially banished for deserting his country. Labeled a traitor. Even the Wutains living here in Midgar looked down on him.

He had an idea why he'd been sent. Several ideas, in fact.

1. This was in Wutai, his home country. Regardless of how long it had been, he'd know his way round better than anyone else.

2. He blended in. Send Reno and he'd stand out like a chocobo in the middle of a class of pre-schoolers.

3. This mission fell into several categories: assassination, elimination of multiple targets, hostile or not, and final demolition. He could do all three without needing any sort of backup.

4. Wutai was teeming with distractions. The only other Turk who could do this alone happened to be Reno, who was distracted rather easily.

In the end, it could only be Tseng.

By lunch, he'd accepted the mission and had calmed down about it. There was no changing it anyway, so he'd just go, do it, and get back as quickly as he could. Simple.

Late that afternoon, the secretary buzzed him.

"You have a call on the office line," she said.

Tseng thanked her and picked up the phone on the nearest desk.

"This is Tseng."

"_Tseng_! Thank Leviathan you're there!"

He didn't recognize the nearly hysterical voice on the line.

"Excuse me, who is this?"

"It's Akemi, Tseng! Your sister!"

Tseng's knees buckled and he grabbed the edge of the desk to steady himself.

"_Akemi_?"

The last time he'd seen his little sister, she'd been leaning out a second-floor window, screaming obscenities and throwing things at him as he left. He'd heard from her only once since then, in a short note telling him she'd gotten married.

"Tseng, you have to come back. _Now_."

"Why?" No sense in telling her he'd be there in a few days. If this was something frivolous, like a sudden change of heart in regards to his 'desertion', then he wanted nothing to do with it.

Akemi said something that he couldn't understand through what was either hysterical laughter or sobs.

"Akemi, calm down and tell me what you want. I don't have much free time on my hands."

"Th-they took h-h-him, Tseng!"

"Find your center. Breathe. Do not say another word until you can do it calmly," Tseng instructed, remembering the days when he'd been telling Akemi those same words while he slowly bent her fingers back towards her wrist, training her to withstand the pain in the same way he'd been taught.

"A-alright. I'm calm."

"Good. Why have you called?"

"A week ago, a man came to my neighborhood and was talking to the children. He was not touching them, and he offered nothing- no candy or toys. The children seemed to like him, so we let them talk to him, as long as one of us was where we could see him."

The 'we' Akemi referred to could only be the collection of wives and mothers remaining at home during the day.

"Go on."

"The next day, most of them just vanished between school and home. Hideki was one of them. My b-boy. He's g-g-gone."

"Breathe, Akemi. Tears do nothing more than raise the level of the sea. Perhaps the children just wandered off. Have you asked around?"

"He is not the only one, Tseng. Eight children from my neighborhood and more than a dozen from others near us. Someone is taking them, and I know you know who it is."

"Why would I know who took your son?"

"His jacket had the ShinRa logo on it. The same company _you_ work for. I know you know nearly everything that goes on in there, Tseng. I know what you have become. Give me my son back."

So much for forgiveness.

Late that night, Tseng began to put pieces together. Children vanishing across Wutai. A man wearing the ShinRa logo seen with the children before they vanished. A former ShinRa scientist performing experiments on kidnapped subjects.

He felt sick. His nephew had been kidnapped for experimenting by a crazed scientist. He had orders to kill everyone and everything in the labs, then destroy the labs. He was going to have to kill his own nephew.

_You knew this might happen one day. You knew that there might come a day when you were sent to Wutai and would have to fight someone you knew. Someone you loved. A child. _

He stomped viciously on the thoughts, rolled over, and fell asleep purely by force of will.

Four days later, he stepped off the plane in Wutai, stiff and tired from the trip over and feeling quite strange in slacks and a casual button-down. Almost at once, his senses were overwhelmed. The sounds, smells, and sights were so close to what they had been; it was as if he'd never left. In fact, if he hadn't had the weight of a gun in the small of his back and several knives hidden on his body, he might almost have believed that he was still a teenager.

He was a day early. His request to have an extra day to assess the situation had been granted. It had been easy to look up Akemi's address in the register of Wutai residents ShinRa still kept.

She lived in a modest home in a nice neighborhood. He was surprised; the Akemi he'd known growing up had sworn never to marry and settle down. He'd been expecting somewhere a little more…edgy.

The woman who answered the door had Akemi in her face, but she was an adult now, pretty and proud but worn around the edges by grief.

"I thought you weren't coming," she said softly.

"I was nearby. It is my duty to make sure you're alright."

"Idiot," she laughed sadly. "You lost that duty when you left us."

"Still."

She led him inside, to a neat sitting room, and made him tea. She'd been hopeless at it when they'd last spoken. Funny what time could do.

"Has there been any word of the children?"

Akemi shook her head.

"No. The whole city is looking for them, but there's been no sign of them. We've been told to expect the worst." She sipped her tea slowly, collecting herself. "Why are you here, Tseng? What reason do you have to be in Wutai?"

"I can't tell you."

"You can't expect me to accept an answer like that one."

"It's business, Akemi. You are a civilian."

Akemi frowned.

"If it is business, as you say, then why are you visiting me? Shouldn't you be taking care of whatever menial task it is that your president has set you?"

"I negotiated an extra day to come and see you."

"I'm _flattered_," she purred, and he could tell that she wasn't. "And what did you hope to accomplish with me?"

"What?"

"You know about what has happened to my son, Tseng. I can see it in the way you won't relax even the slightest and continue to stare at your tea as if the answer to my problems were reflected in it. If that is the case, then why did you come to see me? What do you want from me that is so important?"

"I simply wished to see you and offer my condolences," Tseng said coldly, taking a swallow of his rapidly cooling tea.

"How different."

"There is no point in being rude, Akemi. I came for you. You did, after all, go to the trouble of calling me to tell me of your loss."

"I called to tell you to return Hideki. Nothing more."

"My mistake, then." Tseng stood up and headed for the door. "Forgive me for disturbing you. Thank you for the tea."

He was gone before Akemi could come up with another nasty reply.

Tseng spent the day roaming the city, picking up little bits of information on the disappearances and steeping himself in the very being of his homeland. He had missed it terribly, and it was good to be back. Tomorrow, he would be a Turk again. For today, he was anything but.

It was late when he returned to the apartment ShinRa kept for its operatives. He had eaten at a little corner café in the old part of the city, where ShinRa and the war hadn't touched, and paid no mind to the kitchenette as he passed it. A shower and sleep occupied his mind.

There were no messages on his phone or the laptop he carried. Good. That meant that he hadn't been caught in the database, and that there were no changes to his mission. Satisfied that this, like so many others, was going to be a simple, if bloody, mission, he went to take a shower.

He started to feel sick as he rinsed shampoo from his hair. At first, the queasy feeling led him to think he'd eaten something that was disagreeing with him, but, as it rapidly grew into a sharp throbbing in his stomach and limbs, he realized that it was something far worse. In moments, he was doubled over under the spray of the shower, violently sick to his stomach. Vomiting didn't ease the pain; rather, it intensified it. With panic lurking at the edges of his mind, Tseng stumbled from the shower, intending to fetch the wide-range antidote all Turks were required to carry. His blurring vision made it impossible to tell if he was seeing three dark shapes in the bedroom, or more, but he had very little time to question their presence before something hit him hard at the base of the skull and he collapsed.

When he came to, he felt as sick as he had before being knocked-out. Before he was entirely awake, he rolled onto his side and threw up.

"He's awake _already_?" someone said, sounding surprised.

"They are trained to tolerate poison," another voice murmured.

Hands slid under Tseng's head to support him. Vaguely, he thought he should pull away from the touch, but he was too weak and sick to act on the impulse.

"Are they ready for him?" A woman asked.

"Not yet. What should we do with him?"

"Knock him out again; we don't need him trying to escape and hurting himself."

Another impact made quick work of his consciousness.

The next time he woke, he was suspended from a ceiling by his wrists, virtually naked and freezing. He still felt ill, but not as badly as before, and decided that, barring a spectacular headache, he was doing quite well. While he waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, he took mental notes on everything he could. The chains were iron, not steel- old fashioned, easily picked if one had the right tools. There were chains around his ankles as well. The air was humid and heavy, smelling primarily of vegetation; he was still in Wutai. Hanging from a ceiling in a spread-eagle position was never a good thing, but there didn't seem to be anyone in here with him. When he did his best to twist around and look for slivers of light to indicate a door, there was a vague crackling sensation on the skin of his neck and upper back. It could only be dried blood flaking off.

A door right in front of him opened, allowing a burst of bright light and several shadows entrance. With no warning, Tseng's eyes took the full force of the light and he was momentarily blinded, leaving him unable to see beyond the door for any indication as to where he actually was.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep you unconscious, Turk?" The speaker was female, probably middle-aged. Tseng didn't answer.

"We were under the impression that you and your kind were kept free of Mako, in order to cultivate your powers of judgment and cunning instead of brute strength, but your rapid recovery from our drugs leads me to wonder if they didn't make an exception with you."

That remark stung. Tseng was proud of how he'd kept all Mako and Mako-based drugs out of his system.

"I have no Mako in me," he hissed.

"Then explain yourself."

"No."

She slapped him. As the sting faded, his eyes cleared enough for him to see that his attacker was standing on a raised platform that surrounded the area of ground he was chained over; an easy way to reach him from all sides.

"You will behave, monster," the woman snapped. She was, as he had guessed, middle-aged, tall and elegantly proportioned. She wore a simple yukata, but the fabric looked expensive.

"_I_ am the monster?"

He took the next slap without turning his face, the only defiant gesture he was capable of making.

"You stole our children. That, and the atrocities we suffered during the war, makes you the monster."

The room he was in was built of stone, fitted with electric lights that had been turned on while he was still blinded. There was little else, aside from the other two women standing below, and a small table with several cases on it. Not a promising sight.

"What children?"

"Your nephew, among others."

There was a fourth woman standing behind him, where he couldn't see her. He didn't need to see to know who it was.

"You did this, Akemi? I'm disappointed."

"I'm not a child anymore, Tseng. Don't treat me like one."

"Are you sure? From what I can see, you are acting just as a child does when her doll is taken away."

"Hideki was no doll. He was my son."

The platform shuddered slightly as Akemi climbed onto it. She stood before Tseng, hands on hips, surveying him with a critical eye.

"Kaede."

One of the women on the ground opened one of the cases and tossed a Fire Materia up to Akemi. She caught it and rolled it between her hands as if it were a toy.

"All we want to know is where our children are, Tseng. You can tell me that much, can't you? For your sister?"

"No."

The Materia glowed in Akemi's hand, powering up for an attack. Kaede tossed something else up, something small and dark that Tseng couldn't quite make out.

"It would be so easy," Akemi murmured, leaning close and putting her free hand on Tseng's chest. Where had the other thing gone? "Just a few words."

A flare of orange flame lit up the room for moment, then faded. It hadn't been aimed at him. Confused, he looked at his sister, then realized what she'd been doing as she pressed the freshly heated iron to his chest. That was what the other object had been: a small, round plate of iron on a flame-retardant rod of some kind. He gritted his teeth against the pain.

"We can keep doing this," Akemi said softly, pulling the iron away and brushing a fingertip over the burn.

"Go right ahead."

Eventually, anger and frustration reduced Akemi to furious tears. Nothing she or her three companions –their names were Kaede, Yuri, and Mei- did could force the information they wanted out of him. They left Tseng hanging, bleeding from a dozen places and dizzy with pain, and went outside to commiserate. Well. This mission had certainly gone to the dogs. Here he was, being tortured by a gang of distraught mothers, when all he'd been assigned to do was get rid of a rogue scientist and the lab he had constructed.

The door opened an undetermined length of time later, admitting a single masculine shape.

"Wow. They really had at you," the man breathed. He scrambled up onto the platform and circled Tseng.

"What do you want?"

The man said nothing, just stood on tiptoe and unlocked the manacles holding Tseng up. He fell gracelessly into the stranger's arms, and was set down on the rough wood while his ankles were freed.

"There. I'll leave the door unlocked. When you regain feeling in your limbs, there are clothes and a knife on the table. Take them and go."

Tseng looked a question at his savior.

"I hate seeing my wife cry, Turk, but I hate seeing her hurt someone else even more. You haven't done anything that I know of. Leave, and try not to hold it against them."

Tseng considered this while he waited out the painful tingling that accompanied the reestablishment of circulation in his limbs. Try not to hold it against them. Under other circumstances, he'd have personally hunted them down and killed them with his own hands. They had drugged and kidnapped an employee of ShinRa. Then they'd tortured him for information. Either of those crimes was punishable with death these days, and the combination was bad enough that he was tempted to carry out the sentence. But could he kill Akemi? He wasn't sure, and decided to leave her until his mission had been accomplished. After all, he had injuries to tend, and, if the uncomfortably queasy feeling in his stomach was any indication, drugs to get out of his system.

The clothes waiting on the table for him were traditional hakama and haori. It took him a minute to remember how to properly wear them, but he succeeded and buckled the carry-strap for the knife on. He was as ready as he was going to get.

He went out the door and straight forwards, having seen the women leave to the left and not wanting to get anywhere near them again. It was a straight shot into the trees; whatever this place was, it wasn't well guarded.

Hours later, he stumbled into the apartment. It had taken longer than expected to get back, and it would soon be dark. The apartment was untouched; his captors had obviously been interested in only him. A bad move. Had they searched his things, they would have found the mission file, which included the location of the lab.

First things first. He had to find somewhere else to stay. This was the first place Akemi and her band of angry mothers would look for him. He packed up everything essential, shoving all but his briefcase into a duffle bag, and headed downtown, where there were cheap lodgings and few questions.

Forty-five minutes later, he was carrying his things into a tiny, dimly-lit room. In the end, he had Mei to thank for his alibi. Her repeated slaps had left his right cheek an angry red. The clerk at the desk had taken one look at him, nodded in understanding, and asked to sign here, please. As Tseng turned to the stairs, he'd said "She'll get over it, sir. They always do."

_If only_, Tseng thought. To be polite, he nodded his agreement and trudged up the steps, the picture of a man who has fought with his wife and lost.

He stripped the borrowed clothes off at once, dug the first-aid kit out of his bag, and limped into the bathroom to survey the damage. Mostly burns; Akemi had never been skilled with a blade of any kind, and the others seemed hesitant to draw blood, so they had generally stuck to the heated iron and a similar plate frozen to burning temperatures with an Ice Materia. A scattering of bruises marked where Yuri and Kaede had gotten in on the 'torture', hitting him with fists, feet, and what had looked like a short sword, still in its scabbard. Mei was responsible for the burning scratches on his back and the nasty bruise on his upper thigh.

After doing what he could for all the injuries he could reach, Tseng leaned heavily against the bathroom counter and eyed the bottle of violently blue liquid in his hand. There was no general name for it, but its purpose was to get rid of drugs or mild poisons _after_ they had been administered and had taken effect. It wasn't an antidote, and was far harder to get out of the carrying case for that reason. It was, however, the simplest and most accessible solution to the drugs or poison that Akemi had used on him. He'd never had reason to use it, but had heard stories about the effects and was rather uncertain about using it. Finally, he pushed away from the counter, went out and checked for messages – there were none, and the digital calendar told him that he'd spent only two days in the hands of the mothers. Not enough time to have raised any alarms- then returned to the bathroom, took a deep breath, and tossed the stuff back.

He spent the night sick as a dog and utterly miserable. The way the blue stuff worked was simple: it drew the toxin to a central location- the stomach- and then expelled it in the simplest way possible- through the mouth. That, of course, was the basic mechanical effect. It felt much worse. By dawn, the effects had tapered off into mild nausea that Tseng was too tired to care about. He took two painkillers for the headache and slept until sunset.

Awake, functional, and feeling much better, Tseng inventoried what he'd managed to bring with him: laptop, phone, wireless locator, three detonators, explosives, change of clothing, first-aid kit, case-file, shower kit, two pistols with ammunition, throwing knives, a short sword, backpack, and a Mako-powered rifle that he had been ordered to bring. Good. He hadn't forgotten anything. He spent the night planning.

By mid-afternoon, Tseng had plugged the security cameras at the lab into a loop and was slinking across the open expanse of beaten earth between him and the door he intended to enter through. There were no visible security guards, and no sign of anything more sophisticated. After all, who would come looking for a scientist and his lab way out here in the untamed forests of Wutai? Only an idiot or an assassin.

The door was locked, but with a lock that he got past with a single pick. Shaking his head at the shoddy security, Tseng slipped inside. The hall beyond was damp, dim, and deserted. No cameras, just a few doors and a lonely-looking straight-back chair partway down it.

A door creaked open as Tseng passed it. He froze for a moment, then slipped behind it and held still. After a moment, the door closed again, apparently without anyone entering or leaving. Tseng made to continue down the hall, but something caught the back of his pant leg. He turned slowly. Standing beside him was a girl, seven years old or so, looking up at him with big brown eyes.

"Hi," she said.

"Hello."

Below the waist, she had the body of an octopus.

"Are you a new scientist?"

"Yes."

She smiled brightly.

"My name is Mayura, and I'm six. What's your name?"

"Keiichi." He wasn't about to give her his real name.

"My daddy's name is Keiichi," Mayura said. "Can you help me put my mattress back on the bed? I pulled it off by mistake and it's too heavy for me to put back."

Tseng nodded slowly and let Mayura pull him into the room. Inside there was a bunk bed and a small desk. Several stuffed toys were scattered on the floor.

"Whozzat?" Another girl leaned over the edge of the upper bunk.

"This is Keiichi. He's a scientist, but he says he'll help me put the mattress back."

The girl slipped down off the bunk. She looked slightly more normal than Mayura, aside from her lack of clothing, until she bent to pick up a stuffed moogle. The ridges of her spine had punctured her skin and formed a series of sharp spikes that ran from the base of her skull to her tailbone, where the beginnings of a tail were visible. Tseng shuddered and turned his attention to the mattress lying on the floor. He didn't ask how Mayura had gotten it off the bed frame in the first place.

After the mattress was back in place and the sheets had been rearranged, Tseng headed for the door.

"Thanks, Keiichi," Mayura called. "I hope I get to see you in the labs. You're nice."

Tseng said nothing, just drew one of his guns and fired two shots. Then he left, closing the door behind him.

Several other doors opened as he passed them. Each room contained two children, all displaying varying degrees of experimentation, and all seeing him as nothing more than a new scientist, one who was nicer than most of the others. He shot each one, imagining a monster's face over the trusting, innocent eyes.

The hall connected to another just like it. A door opened as he passed, and he turned, expecting another child to come out and greet him. Instead, a rush of dark skin and scales leaped at him, teeth bared. Tseng ducked and rolled, narrowly missing being brained by a big paw. The thing skidded to a halt, turned, and rushed him again. Tseng backed into the room it had come out of, hurried to the side, and slammed the door when the thing followed him. Now he was trapped in a room with a monster, but at least he had lessened the risk of being caught.

The creature facing him was six inches taller than him at the shoulder, covered in dark green skin scattered with patches of lighter scales. It had the facial structure of a chocobo, with none of the sweet benevolence, and the body of a very large dog. It did not look happy.

"Oo smeh bad," it growled. Under the throaty growl was the voice of a child. Tseng stared. This _thing_ had been human once?

"I'm a scientist," he told it, hoping the lie would work again. The thing regarded him with big, dark gray eyes.

"Coat men?" it said at last.

"Yes."

"Bad."

"Yes."

"Why here?" the creature demanded. "Food?"

"Medicine," Tseng said gently. "Open your mouth- beak."

It considered this for a moment, then sat down and opened its beak wide. Tseng took two careful steps forward, aimed, and fired. Then he brushed himself off and left the room. He didn't need to pretend with this one.

Another hall down, he smelled the acrid tang of Mako. He was close. He walked close to the wall, gun out. The first scientist he encountered didn't even see him before he killed him. The second did and tried to run, but Tseng leaped at him, kicking his feet out from under him and slitting his throat before he could make a sound. The third was a woman. One from Wutai. She was leading a ten year old by the hand, murmuring softly to him. The child had the eyes of an insect. He shot the scientist first. The boy watched her fall, and looked at the blood that had spattered his hand and face.

"You killed her."

"I did."

"Are you going to kill me?"

"Yes."

"Would you not shoot me? Break my neck, or something. I don't want my blood mixing with hers; she's evil."

Tseng stared. The boy stared back, unblinking. Had he just…yes, he had.

"Alright. Come here."

The fly boy did as he was told.

"Thanks," he said, just before the butt of Tseng's gun slammed into his skull. He fell to the floor, limp. Tseng crouched over him, took the boy's head in his hands and, bracing with his knee, twisted sharply. His neck snapped. Tseng didn't bother to hide the body.

Jeremiah Archer was in the second lab Tseng entered, bent over a small figure on the table with his back to the door.

"Turn towards me," Tseng said levelly. Jeremiah froze, then turned slowly. He was a thin man with curly brown hair and a sweet face.

"Found me, eh?" he said, pushing a few stray curls out of his face. His hand left a streak of blood just below his eye, candy-bright in the harsh lighting. "I was wondering how long I'd have."

"I have orders to retire you."

"I bet you do. Tell me, Turk, does it bother you to see me working on the children of your nation? Or do you like seeing them hurt, since they hurt you?"

"I have no emotional angle in my work, Doctor. On your knees."

"You still have family here in Wutai, don't you?" Jeremiah said conversationally, turning back to the child on the table. "I didn't get one of your relations, did I? A cousin, or perhaps a nephew?"

Tseng glared at him.

"I said on your knees."

"No, I don't think so. I'm very busy, Turk, and I don't have the time to play games with you." He picked up a scalpel and delicately cut something that Tseng couldn't see. "Humans are a remarkable species. So versatile. They take modifications well, much better than classic lab animals. And their genetic structure will even change to mirror the modifications, if the right environment is available. Fascinating. Sephiroth shouldn't be the only one of his kind. With the proper procedure, it would be easy to create many more of them, without losing the mother."

The thought of there being hundreds of men like Sephiroth turned Tseng's blood to ice. An army of impossibly strong men, with intelligence that was unmatched, and with battle rage that could not be defended against. An army of monsters, rabid beasts in human skin. It was disgusting.

"The General is not your concern," Tseng said simply. "Nor is the creation of more like him. There are scientists assigned to that. You are not one of them."

"I know. I have my own methods, after all. Now, you never answered my question about family. Did I get one of yours?"

Tseng said nothing. Jeremiah laughed.

"I did, did I? How old was he?"

The man was laughing, as if this were some kind of joke, or a game that he was sure of winning. As if he were a child with a new toy, one he wanted to show off so badly that he would brag even to the neighborhood bullies, talking until they took it away from him. He was sick.

"Six."

"Ah, yes. It's the best age for these things, when they're still small and pliable but already have personality. Like clay. I like working on the ones between five and seven. This one here was seven." He stepped aside, letting Tseng see the body he was dissecting.

The torso had been immensely swollen, the bones spread apart, and there were things in the chest cavity Tseng knew weren't normally found in a human body. Above the bloody mess, the boy's face was serene, as if he were just sleeping.

"What did you do to him?"

"We were trying to encourage the development of lungs," Jeremiah sighed. "His heart was crushed when the organs required for breathing water developed. A pity, he was doing quite well until then. These are interesting-" he prodded a dark gray mass near the bottom of the cavity"- he developed air bladders to alter his buoyancy. Can't say I expected that."

He wasn't wearing gloves.

"Step away from the table and kneel," Tseng ordered.

"Why must I kneel, Turk? Aren't you trained to hit moving targets? I'm not running, after all, just standing here and working. You can kill me without my participating in some archaic ritual your outdated people came up with."

Tseng reached for his gun.

"You know, I think there's a six year-old down the hall, in one of the tanks. A boy that I picked up myself…he had your nose…your nephew, perhaps?"

After shooting, Tseng managed to grab Jeremiah's coat and pull him back so the boy on the table wouldn't suffer the final indignity of having his killer bleed on him. It was the least he could do.

"Leviathan curse you for eternity," he hissed, rolling the scientist onto his back and getting out his phone for a picture as confirmation. The exit wound was messy, but there was more than enough of his face left for an easy identification.

He headed back out into the hall, intending to just blow the place and leave, then turned and trotted in the direction he hadn't explored yet. At the end of the hall, a large room contained at least two dozen Mako tanks, each containing another victim of Jeremiah's experiments. A boy with hands where his feet should have been. A girl covered in scales. A pair of twin girls, no more than three years old, with clear skin displaying the inner workings of their bodies.

Hideki was at the far end of the room, in the tank beside one holding a girl that was part snake. He looked like Tseng when he'd been young, and like Akemi, before she let her hair grow. He'd been melded with a young Nibleheim wolf, his torso rising out of the body of the animal like a creature from legend. His eyes were open; he was fully healed and aware. When he saw Tseng, he reached out and placed his hand on the glass, smiling.

Tseng caved. He bent over the control panel for the tank and fumbled through the release cycle. With a hiss, the Mako and nutrient-rich liquid in the tank began to drain out, leaving Hideki to stand on the platform and wait for the glass to rise. It did, with a wet pop, and Hideki trotted down to meet his uncle. For six years old, his body was too strong, too well-developed. Jeremiah had changed it, making him physically compatible with the wolf body.

"Do I get to go home now?"

He still had a child's voice, at least. Innocent, curious, and eager.

"Yes."

If Akemi wouldn't have him, then Tseng would find somewhere for him. There was no way he was going to kill him. Not after everything. Not after the torture and the sobbing women. This was one child who was going to walk away.

"I'm Hideki."

"Tseng."

Hideki looked at him, then grinned.

"I have an uncle named Tseng."

"I know."

"Are you him?"

"I am."

Hideki gave him a wet, rather sticky hug, squeezing hard enough to make Tseng's bruises hurt. He ignored it and hugged Hideki with his free arm. He was warm under the wetness, a normal, human temperature.

"Mama says you're a bad man, but you can't be if you saved me," he said happily. "She'll be so happy to see you now. I can't wait! I bet she'll make ramen for all of us- have you had her ramen?"

"I'm afraid not."

"She makes the best ramen ever. Daisuke says his mama makes better, but she puts too much salt in it, and the noodles are always too soft. Do you like ramen, Uncle Tseng?"

"I did when I was a kid."

"Then you'll like Mama's. Are you gonna stay with us now?"

Stay? With Akemi? Certainly not. Regardless of whether not he had rescued her son from Jeremiah, Akemi still hated him for ShinRa. He doubted she would even let him into the house long enough to deliver Hideki, let alone allow him to stay with her. And what of his job?

"No, Hideki, I have to go back to work."

"Where do you work?"

"I work for the ShinRa Company."

"Mama says they're evil. They caused the war and killed lots of people, and now they won't let us alone. Everybody says that ShinRa can see everything we do. Can they, Uncle Tseng?"

"No."

"That's good."

Hideki dutifully followed Tseng around the building, watching with interest as he laid the explosives.

"Are we going to blow this place up?" he asked.

"Mmhm."

"Why?"

"Because it's my job, and because there are very bad things in here that have to be gotten rid of. This is the best way of going so."

"My friend Ohkubo is in here. The man in the coat took him before me."

"I'm sorry."

"Does he have to die?"

"He does."

Hideki fidgeted for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip, then sighed.

"Okay. I hope he gets reborn as a bird…maybe a chocobo. He always liked them."

Tseng had a bad feeling that Ohkubo had been the chocobo-dog thing that he'd shot in the mouth. He didn't mention it.

"I'm sure he will be."

They finished and headed outside. Hideki gave a delighted yell and ran around in the twilight, leaping and chasing after fireflies. Whether he had had practice running on four legs instead of two or if the wolf genes had influenced his, Tseng didn't know, but it was wonderful and terrible to watch him play.

While Hideki played, Tseng placed more charges around the walls, to be sure of a good explosion. When he'd completed a full circle of the building and encountered two more scientists, he returned to find Hideki sprawled out on the dirt, panting and looking absolutely ecstatic.

"It's so great to be outside again," he said, getting up and bouncing over to Tseng's side. "They never let me out to play. Are we going to blow it up now?"

"We have to get to the trees first. We don't want to be within the blast radius."

"Oh. Okay."

Hideki lagged a bit as they crossed the bare earth, obviously tired out by his playing. Together they bellied down behind a big tree, and Tseng offered the detonator to Hideki.

"Would you do the honors?"

"Y'mean _I_ get to do it?"

"If you'd like."

"_Wow_."

Hideki hit the button, keyed in the code Tseng told him, and hit the button again. The lab and everything in it went up in a cloud of smoke and fire. Hideki laughed and cheered, hands over his ears because Tseng had told him to keep them there until he said otherwise. When most of the dust had settled, Tseng snapped his flashlight on and they went to inspect the ruins. Nothing remained that was over knee-high, and what did remain was mostly rubble, pushed into heaps by the force of the explosions.

"Looks like we're done here," Tseng murmured, toeing a charred pile of debris aside to reveal what remained of Jeremiah Archer. "Ready to go home?"

"Yeah!"

The walk back was going to be a long one, longer in the dark, so Tseng fed himself and Hideki before they set out, Tseng walking the route he'd taken on his way in and Hideki prancing around him. Apparently, he could see quite well in the dark, another one of Jeremiah's modifications.

The moon was about level with the treetops when Hideki stopped bouncing and began to fall behind. Tseng stopped and waited for him.

"Am I going too fast?"

Hideki shook his head.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't feel good, Uncle Tseng."

"How?"

"I feel sick."

Tseng sighed. Military rations could be rough on stomachs that weren't used to them.

"We can stop for awhile, then," he said, looking around for a suitable spot. A fallen log caught his attention, and he led Hideki over to it. "Lie down. You'll feel better."

"Okay."

Hideki stretched out in the leaf litter, heaping some of it up for an armrest.

"Why did you leave home, Uncle Tseng?"

"Hmm? Oh, I…well, I wasn't convinced that ShinRa was as bad as everyone said, and it was a job I thought I'd enjoy with excellent pay. So I went."

"Do you like it?"

"Sometimes. No job is perfect."

"Is it fun?"

"Every now and then."

Hideki sat up, front legs splayed before him, and stretched.

"I feel a little better," he said. "We can go now."

"You're sure?"

"Uh-huh. I'm fine."

Tseng doubted that, but knew it had probably been trained into him. Arguing would be pointless.

"Let's go, then."

They set out again, Hideki sticking closer to Tseng than before. The forest around them rustled with life and echoed with sounds a city boy wouldn't be familiar with.

"How old were you when you left home?"

"I was sixteen."

"Ten years older than me."

"Mmhm."

"Uncle Tseng, what do you d-"

Tseng turned around to determine why Hideki had stopped talking. He was standing still, hands pressed over his stomach.

"What is it?"

In response, Hideki threw up. Tseng winced, then stepped around it and put his arm around Hideki's shoulders, leading him a short distance away. He sat him down, then crouched beside him.

"I don't want to push you, Hideki," he said quietly. "Tell me if you need to stop."

"I'm sorry," Hideki whimpered.

"It's alright. Army rations can do this. We can stay here until it wears off, okay?"

Hideki nodded and leaned into Tseng. He hesitated, then wrapped one arm around him and absently rubbed his shoulders. Now that he thought about it, Hideki wasn't quite at a human temperature. He was hotter than that. Had he been this warm in the labs?

Tseng put his hand to Hideki's forehead. Fever. Wonderful. He didn't have anything he could give his nephew for that.

"You have a fever."

"I do?"

"Yes. Tell me how you feel?"

"Why?"

"So I know whether or not to worry."

"Oh. Um…my stomach hurts, and my head hurts, and my legs hurt. All of them."

Tseng looked at Hideki's legs. They appeared fine, no swelling or anything unusual. Why would they hurt?

"Are they just sore from running?"

"They only started hurting a few minutes ago."

Tseng crouched and felt Hideki's legs carefully, searching for problems he might have missed before. They felt fine, but Hideki shuddered and tried to pull them out of his hands.

"That hurts," he complained.

"How does it hurt, Hideki? I need details so I can fix it."

"It feels like a really big bruise. Stop touching me."

Tseng stopped to think. Sore legs didn't fit with the fever, headache, or upset stomach, not even in what he knew of veterinary medicine.

"Is it getting worse, or has it stayed the same?"

"Why?" Hideki asked, sounding rather irritable.

"I want to help."

"It hurts more. A lot more."

They sat together for a few minutes, Tseng trying to determine what was wrong with his nephew and the nephew in question leaning against him, slowly falling asleep. It wasn't the food…his symptoms didn't match that. There would have been evidence if he'd been bitten by something.

Hideki began to cough. Tseng pushed him upright without much thought and patted his back, entirely lost in thought, until a splattering noise caught his attention. The fur of Hideki's front legs was spattered with red. More of it dripped over his lips. Hideki lifted panicked eyes to Tseng.

"What's happening to me?" he managed before the coughing hit him again. He hunched in on himself, hands over his mouth but doing nothing to hide the blood oozing between his fingers.

Suddenly suspicious, Tseng reached for Hideki's legs again. A quick squeeze told him all he needed to know. The bone was malleable under his fingers, beginning to give, as though Hideki were no more than a living clay sculpture. He was breaking down. He hadn't spent enough time in the tank to properly adjust to the new combination of DNA and Mako that now made up his body. Tseng had taken him out too soon.

Hideki was bleeding in earnest now, a gush of blood coming with every cough. Each shaky inhale gurgled in his throat. Tseng helped him sit straight, paying no attention to the bright stains on his clothes. His fault. Instead of a quick, fiery death, Hideki had to endure this pain.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

Hideki didn't answer. He couldn't. Every breath he took was shallow and difficult. His ribs couldn't support themselves any longer. They were caving in, collapsing on all the tender organs beneath them.

"I didn't mean for this to happen."

Hideki slumped in his arms, more bones breaking down into a soupy mess. Holding him was like holding a bag of liquid, and it turned Tseng's stomach, but he held on anyway.

His skull was the last to go, collapsing all at once. The skin of Hideki's face sagged loosely, bulging around the bottom with the pressure of the fluid inside. Finally, his torso separated from the body of the wolf in a rush of blood and sludgy fluid, soaking through Tseng's clothes. It smelled as if it had been rotting for days.

Tseng sat there until the first light of impending dawn roused sleepy birdcalls. Slowly, he stood, watching the scraps of skin slide off his legs. A conventional burial wouldn't work, but he would do what he could. A stone pyre.

When the pyre was done, he collected his things and headed back to the city at a quick trot.

24 hours later, he stepped out of the helicopter, handed his report in, and went home. Sitting on the edge of his kitchen counter, he dialed Akemi's number.

"Hello?"

"Akemi?"

"_Tseng_?"

"He's dead."

Silence on the line.

"Dead?"

"Yes."

"Did you kill him?"

"Indirectly."

"Monster," Akemi spat. The line went dead.


End file.
